Shoot for the Moon (Land in the Stars)
by Emmeebee
Summary: Ginny didn't think he was ready, but unfortunately, that wasn't her call to make.


A/N: Written by Chaser 1 of Montrose Magpies for Round 12

Prompt: Write about two characters (Ginny Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy) in an employer/employee relationship.

Optional prompts: (word) name; (object) windmill; (scenario) a Quidditch accident

Word count: 2912 on Google Docs

Not compliant with _Cursed Child_ or with Pottermore.

For the purpose of this one-shot, Albus was sorted into Ravenclaw, not Slytherin, and so was on friendly terms with Scorpius but wasn't friends with him.

* * *

Ginny pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail as she stepped out onto the Quidditch pitch. Her equipment trailed along behind her, charmed to follow obediently. Surrounded by a wide expanse of recently mowed grass and rows of staggered seating, she felt tiny and inconsequential, like she was part of something much bigger than herself. It was one of the things that had kept her coming back year after year, no matter how many times she was rushed to the hospital with broken bones or sprains. Her face broke into a broad smile, unable to contain her excitement. She always got this way whenever a new season was about to start, the anticipation growing within her until it burned like a bonfire, the heat and smoke tracking across every sphere of her life.

When she and Harry were preparing to have children, resigning had been the best — and, in her opinion, only — option for her. Playing Quidditch professionally was exhilarating, but it came with all the pitfalls of a hectic schedule and being constantly on the move and never knowing whether she would be heading home or to the hospital after a match. Neither she nor Harry had wanted that kind of life for their children. Harry's inheritance was large enough that they could get by easily on one income, but she hadn't wanted that for herself. Instead, she had taken up the position of Quidditch correspondent, reasoning that she would at least maintain some sort of contact with the career she loved so much.

Reporting, however, was simply not _her_. It had felt like she was constantly on the outskirts, watching the action without ever being allowed to participate. The job had kept her mind active, but it had been nothing more than a means to an end. The moment the coach of the Magpies had announced her plans to retire, Ginny had applied for the position, wanting more than anything to take a more active role once more. A few years had passed since she first started coaching, and she was as enamoured with it as ever.

But her good mood fled like a Snitch on a mission when she caught sight of an infuriatingly familiar mop of platinum blond hair. The young man's face was softer and more rounded than his father's, but the connection was unmistakable. Just looking at him took her back twenty years and had her hands clenching at her side. When he had showed up at tryouts, she had been stunned but had assumed that he would fail, saving her from having to see him again. But to her surprise, he had showed such raw potential that her manager, Steve, had overruled her insistence that he needed another year or two of experience first.

Hence her current predicament.

She tilted her head down so that he wouldn't see her scowl. He might have had everything in life handed to him on the basis of his family name, but she hadn't. All of the years of being ridiculed and pitied had given her the desire to make sure she would never feel like that again, melding her into a hard-working and determined young woman whose chip on her shoulder drove her to bring her A game to everything she did. In this case, professionalism demanded that she make sure that her interactions with Scorpius Malfoy were all above reproach.

On the other hand, her role as coach also involved ensuring that the players gave the team their best effort. If he was planning on slacking off, treating the sport as a bludge and his career as a free ride, then he was going to be in for a surprise.

And if she had the opportunity to introduce a Malfoy to the concept of actually working, then she would take great pleasure in doing so.

"Hullo Scorpius," she said, putting a professional smile on her face as she looked back up at him. "You're here early."

He shrugged, but the slightest hint of a blush tinged his cheeks. "I was too excited to sleep, so I came over early to do a few practice rounds with a Snitch."

She raised an eyebrow, torn between being taken aback by the unexpected vulnerability and wanting to point out that most people didn't have the galleons to buy their own personal Snitch for practice. "That was very... productive of you."

"I do try," he said, a hint of the cockiness she had been expecting showing through.

"Well" — she flicked her wand to instruct her bags to carefully set themselves down — "since no one else is here yet, how about we have a one-on-one race?"

-x-x-x-

" _There's just something about him," Ginny said, shaking her head as she finished the rant that had gone on for the entirety of the time that it took Hermione to set up for Rose's birthday party. "I don't like him."_

" _You're his coach, not his friend," Hermione pointed out, eyeing the redhead with concern. "It's not your job to like him; it's your job to train him."_

 _Hermione knew how the Weasleys could get. She loved them all dearly, but it was impossible to deny that they were an opinionated and outspoken bunch. If they thought someone had slighted them, they were willing to carry the offence to the grave. She didn't know the boy_ _—_ _she had heard from Rose and Albus that he was an alright sort, but neither of them had ever spoken to him much_ _—_ _but she wasn't entirely certain that Ginny did, either._

" _Maybe I don't have to like him, but I do have to be able to trust him. And I just can't."_

" _What would it take for him to get you to trust him?" Hermione asked._

" _I don't know."_

-x-x-x-

When Scorpius got home that night, his whole body was aching. They had flown around for a good twenty minutes before anyone else arrived, and he had pushed himself as hard as he could in order to keep up with her, not wanting her to think that he was the type to slack off just because it wasn't 'real'.

He had quickly come to regret his fervour when the rest of the team arrived for the actual session. By the end of the first hour, he had been bone-tired and desperate to just lay down somewhere — anywhere. But he hadn't wanted his new teammates to think he didn't have what it took. Everyone else had been on the team last year, so he was well aware that all eyes would be on him until they knew that he was up to scratch. So he had continued to push himself, tapping into reserves that he hadn't even realised that he had. Despite the pain, it was exhilarating to know just how much he could do when he truly had to.

That was one of the main reasons he had wanted to join the Magpies so badly. Ginny hadn't been coaching for long, but she was quickly becoming known as one of the best in the industry. She breathed the sport in the way that most people breathed air, instinctively knowing what each player's strengths were and how to best utilise them. It was clear that she didn't settle for anyone's second best, and he admired that about her. He knew that he could learn a lot from her and her mentorship.

He would just have to work harder. First goal: build his fitness up.

-x-x-x-

" _I thought Malfoy did really well," Harry said as they returned home from the first Magpies game of the season. From what Ginny had been saying, he had been expecting the boy to have trouble telling one end of the broom from the other. But while he had made a several big mistakes, one of which had left one of the Chasers open to a particularly bad Bludger to the side, Harry chalked it up to inexperience and being overwhelmed by the breakneck pace of professional Quidditch. It often took new players a while to adjust to the difference between school sport and, as Ginny liked to jokingly call it, the 'real thing'._

 _Ginny's face scrunched up the way it always did when she was beginning to suspect that she might have been wrong about something. "I'll admit that he played better than I expected, and he's definitely trying, but I still maintain that he isn't ready yet. If he wasn't blinded by his last name, Steve would have seen that and told him to try again next year."_

-x-x-x-

Scorpius leant forward, urging the broomstick to whizz through the air. He was moving faster than he ever had before, but it still didn't feel like it was enough. Often, Quidditch fans made the mistake of assuming that speed was the Seeker's sole demain, with Beaters like Scorpius needing only to be strong and sturdy. But that wasn't accurate. While strength and accuracy were certainly the most important skills in his repertoire, agility and speed were also useful since they helped him to get wherever he needed to go. If he couldn't move quickly enough to intercept a Bludger on its way to one of his teammates, then it didn't matter if he could whack it the whole length of the pitch with pinpoint accuracy because he simply wouldn't get the chance to do so.

He hadn't had any problems with it so far. However, he could sense that, despite his best efforts, Ginny was still concerned about his performance. He had known that there would be a learning curve, but a secret, quiet part of him that he was doing his best to ignore was beginning to question whether he really was cut out for professional Quidditch. His friends had suggested changing teams once his contract ended, but if he couldn't make it with the best, then perhaps he didn't deserve to make it at all. It was like a trial through fire; it might scorch and singe him, but if he made it through in one piece, he would be far stronger for it.

He caught sight of the large windmill in the distance and fought the urge to glance down at his watch to check on his time. The structure was an endless source of confusion for him and his parents. When it first went up, his mother had asked one of the Muggles about it down at the village, but the explanation had created more questions than it answered. As it was, all he knew was that it did something with the air in order to make Muggle objects run more responsibly, whatever that meant. One thing he _did_ know, however, was that it was in the middle of an abandoned field approximately five minutes away from his home. Between the seclusion and a Disillusionment Charm, it was the perfect place to practice his flying.

As he careened around the white stem, he pulled up on the broomstick to bring himself to an abrupt halt, immediately looking down at his watch to check his time.

Four minutes and seven seconds. It was his best time yet.

And that was his last thought before a gust of wind hit him straight in the chest, sending him careening backwards. His hands grasped at the handle of the broomstick, but they were sweaty from exertion and couldn't find purchase on the polished wood.

The next thing he knew, he was hurtling through the air, heading straight for the ground.

-x-x-x-

" _I'm worried about him," Astoria said as she watched Scorpius fly around the garden for the hundredth time that day._

 _Draco nodded, his face twisted with concern. "I know. I tried talking to him about it, but he insisted that that's how it is with Quidditch and that everyone else works just as hard as he does."_

" _I know I'm biased, but I doubt that very much." Astoria was proud to see her son growing into such a dedicated young man, but there was a slim line between working hard and working yourself into the ground. As the weeks dragged on, Scorpius was going from flirting with that line to full-on marrying it._

 _And when it came to Quidditch, the ground was a long way down._

-x-x-x-

It felt like her heart was in her throat as Ginny stood in the corner of Scorpius Malfoy's hospital room, watching his chest rise and fall with a mixture of gratitude and shame. She was standing completely immobile, her stillness disguising the leftover panic that was still shooting around inside her like the balls in one of those pinball machines that Harry was so fond of plating. She had been eating dinner when she received a letter from Astoria Malfoy, saying that Scorpius had been hospitalised after a Quidditch accident and wouldn't be able to make training for the foreseeable future. Immediately, Ginny had abandoned her food, pausing only to grab a handful of Floo Powder and shout out an explanation to Harry as she raced for the fireplace.

All in all, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Scorpius had managed to reach his wand and use a Repelling Charm to break his fall, and he had just forced out his house-elf's name before slipping into unconsciousness. Still, 'wasn't as bad' was pretty damn bad. From what Astoria had said, it would be easier to list the bones he _hadn't_ broken than the bones he _had._ At least half of his body was covered in bandages, and he looked so small and breakable that, for the first time, she saw him not just as _rich and probably entitled_ or _determined but too inexperienced_ , but as a person in and of himself.

"The Healer said I can't go back to Quidditch for six weeks," he said, the fingers on his left hand twitching slightly as if they wanted to play with the sheet but couldn't because of his fractured wrist. "The moment I can, though, I swear I'll do everything I can to catch up again."

Ginny sighed and walked forward to sit in the chair by his bedside, feeling relieved that nobody else was present for this conversation. "No, you won't."

"I mean it; I'm not going to slack off just because — "

"Scorpius, I should have told you this earlier, but after the tryouts, I didn't think you should be on the team."

Sadness and resignation settled across his face at her words, and when he nodded, she had the sinking and gut-twisting realisation that she might not have been as subtle with her dislike as she had thought.

"It wasn't that you weren't a good player," she hastily continued. "You are. It was just that you were still so green — and, sadly, the pun is entirely intentional. You weren't ready for it, and you reminded me too much of your father and how horrible he was to my friends in school. I'm ashamed to say that that caused me to be harder on you than I should have been. I'm sorry."

His gaze shot up to meet hers, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Is this the part where you tell me that you're now glad I'm on the team?" he asked, his jovial tone covering what she was sure would be real concern.

 _No,_ she thought. At the end of the day, she stood by her initial impression. He _hadn't_ been ready for the position, and in many ways, he still wasn't. It was just that she saw now that her role as coach wasn't to discount him because he wasn't meeting standards that he, through no fault of his own, didn't yet have the ability to meet. It was to meet him where he was at, wherever that might be. Ultimately, she had been so concerned with him not doing _his_ job that she had been failing to do _hers_.

"It's the part where I tell you that we both need to stop comparing you to your teammates," Ginny replied. "If you were already as good as they are, I would be worried about what they've been doing their whole career and, frankly, about my coaching. For now, what you need to do is to follow the Healers' instructions to the letter to make sure you heal properly. When you get back, we'll talk about how to best approach the rest of the season."

"You aren't letting me go?" he asked, looking genuinely surprised.

"Not unless you want me to. If you'd had another year or two of experience before showing up at the tryouts, I would have been thrilled to have someone with your talent on the team. So as far as I'm concerned, if you're happy to stay, I'm happy to do my best to give you that experience on the condition that you don't push yourself so hard when you don't have someone there to spot for you."

"Of course I want to stay." The corner of his lips pulled up into a hint of a smile. "I would shake your hand to seal the deal, but, ah…" He wiggled his fingers pointedly.

"How about we both just pretend that we did?" she asked, lowering her voice as if they were spies planning some big conspiracy.

Scorpius grinned, and in that moment, Ginny knew that everything would work itself out in the end. "I would very much appreciate that."


End file.
